Namesakes
by alohamora080
Summary: Albus Severus Potter is stuck in the Headmaster's office.
1. Part I: Albus Dumbledore

09 November 2019

"James," Albus whispered angrily out of the corner of his mouth. He glanced up ahead, not wanting Headmistress Sprout and Professor McGonagall to hear him. He was not at all keen on getting into even more trouble for a crime he hadn't committed. "I swear to Merlin—you are going to pay for this!"

"Al, calm down, mate," James rolled his eyes, striding along nonchalantly beside his brother, hands shoved in his pockets. "I've got this completely under control, hear me?" From within his cloak, he extracted a buffeted, worn, old piece of parchment—the legendary Marauder's Map.

Keeping a close eye on the Professors' moving figures before us, he tapped the parchment once and mumbled softly, "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

"Okay," he muttered, brows furrowing as he fervently studied the map. "Filch is two floors up, so if we make a dash for it that-a-way,"—he gestured towards the empty corridor on our right—"we can escape to the Common Room."

"Oh, yeah," drawled Albus sarcastically, "and get whipped by our Headmistress tomorrow morning. Call me an idiot, but I'm staying right here."

"Speak for yourself," James shrugged and in a flash, he was gone.

"Why you little—" Albus began furiously, twisting his fingers into a obscene hand gesture that would have caused my mother to have a coronary, had she been present.

Albus suddenly realized that the two teachers in front of him had stopped in front of the large gargoyle that was the entrance to the Head of School's Office.

"Potter," Professor McGonagall said curtly over her square spectacles. Even though she was not technically a staff member in the school anymore, she often appeared to have more respect and authority than all the staff put together. Even the headmistress was known to come to McGonagall with her problems. "Where's your brother?" she inquired, looking around.

Albus shrugged moodily, still slightly miffed that his brother had left him at a time like this.

Professors Sprout and McGonagall exchanged a weary look.

Sighing gustily, Professor Sprout finally said, "Well, let's go track him down before he explodes something else."

"Well, at least the damage isn't half as bad with Weasley in the hospital wing," McGonagall reasoned, as she walked away. "They truly are quite a double-act." Albus felt almost queasy to hear a note of pride in McGonagall's voice as she said this.

"Oh, and the password—Mandrake," Professor Sprout called over her shoulder.

Grumbling to himself, Albus announced, "Mandrake," and the majestic stone effigy leapt aside. Stepping onto the revealed staircase, he let himself into the office, and closed the door behind him with a click.

Slowly and soundlessly, so as not to interrupt the quiet atmosphere, Albus padded across the office and took a seat in front of the Headmistress's desk. He stared down at his feet, feeling slightly awkward. Perhaps he ought to leave, as well. After all, it seemed unlikely that James was going to allow himself to be tracked down—

"My, my, my, you _do_ look extraordinarily like your father, don't you?" a kindly voice said from somewhere in front of me.

Albus jumped violently, and sprang to my feet, sending many of Professor Sprout's possessions to the floor.

"Who was that?" he demanded, gaze snapping from one part of the room to the next.

"My name's Albus Dumbledore." The same kind voice as before chuckled, and Albus realized, with a rush of excitement, that the voice was coming from a portrait behind the large chair in front of him. It was a portrait of a wiry old man with a long silver hair, and lanky mustache and beard. His long, thin fingers were crossed at the edge of his frame and his piercing blue eyes were twinkling pleasantly behind a pair of half-moon spectacles.

"Albus Dumbledore?" Albus asked breathlessly. "You mean, _the_ Albus Dumbledore?"

"Why, yes, I suppose," Dumbledore chortled again, his eyes now positively alight. "If that is how you'd prefer to address me."

Albus blushed red.

"So, tell me about yourself. I would indeed love to know all about my dear, dear boy, Harry," Dumbledore smiled fondly.

"He's an Auror and married to my mum, Ginny," Albus began, dropping down again onto the chair. "I have an older brother, James Sirius—whose fault it is that I'm in here in the first place—"

Dumbledore looked politely puzzled.

"He blew up a toilet, and I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time," Albus explained glumly.

"Ah, well he is much indeed like his namesakes. How very like Harry to unsuspectingly name his first-born after the two most troublesome boys this school's ever known," Dumbledore beamed. "Do continue."

"I also have a younger sister. Her name's Lily Luna. She's a sweet girl, I guess, but you really never ought to get on her bad side. She's an extremely talented caster of the Bat-Bogey-Hex."

"Charming, charming." Dumbledore smiled amiably. "And what's your name, dear sir?"

Albus suddenly felt very shy. "Albus Potter," he managed to squeak out. It was several moments before he noticed the tears welling up in Dumbledore's eyes. He hurriedly averted his eyes.

"Tell Harry that I think as highly of him as he apparently thinks of me," Dumbledore finally said, his voice calm.

Albus nodded earnestly. There was a moment's pause. Then, frowning slightly to himself, Albus finally asked the question which he had been dying to ask, all this time. "Professor, where is Severus Snape's portrait?"

* * *

YEEEE WELCOME TO MY FIRST STORY EVER! :D This is so exciting for me!

Anyway, regarding the story...well, this is something I've always wanted to do. I mean, how interesting would it be for Albus Potter to meet the men for which he was named?

Yours sincerely,  
Alohamora


	2. Part II: Severus Snape

09 November 2019

"Right over here," Dumbledore said cheerfully, pointing towards the long, oval portrait next to his. In it, a rather young man with oily, raven-black hair and sallow skin was snoozing, snoring occasionally through his large, hooked nose. "Why?"

"Er—Professor Snape?" Albus asked nervously. The man in the portrait twitched. "Professor Snape?" he asked again, a little louder.

There was a small grunting sound, as the greasy-haired teacher suddenly woke up from his slumber and glanced around for the cause of the disturbance. His eyes fell on Albus and narrowed, ever-so-slightly.

"Hello," Albus greeted him timidly, after a moment of awkward silence. And, suddenly, Albus realized that every single one of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts had chosen that very moment to direct their undivided attention at the him. Dumbledore too was gazing at him intensely.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"

"Al Potter," Albus said softly.

"Ah, yes, of course you are," he sneered. "You must be the spawn of the very ungrateful boy, whom I spent half my life struggling to protect from harm. Well, I am quite positive that he doesn't give a care anymore, now that he's the savior of the Wizarding World—"

"Of course he cares!" Albus interrupted fiercely. Was this idiotic man out of his mind? Did he not know just what level of esteem Albus's father held him at? "He even named me after you! My—my name is Albus Severus Potter."

Snape opened his mouth—to assert something cutting, no doubt—but he closed it again, quickly.

Hesitantly, Albus glanced at Professor Dumbledore. The elder man's face seemed to be radiating so much pride that Albus was surprised that the whole room wasn't as bright as the afternoon sun outside.

"He named his son after me?" Snape finally asked, his voice filled with incredulity. "But—I—I made his life miserable."

"My father is strong enough to look past that," Albus told him, filled suddenly with new-found respect for his father. "In fact," he continued softly, aware that every single portrait in the room was pretending not to be aware of the conversation at bay, "he says that you are the bravest man he ever knew."

There was a fleeting pause as Snape digested this, his jaw slack.

"Well," Snape swallowed deeply. "Er, tell Potter—I mean your father—I say, er, thank you."

"Of course," Albus smiled.

Snape was silent for a few more moments, the ghost of a smile lingering upon his lips as his eyes swept over Albus's face. Then—"He has Lily's eyes."

All of a sudden, the door to the room burst open and Professor Sprout entered with James in tow, who, quite unsurprisingly, was sporting a disassembled toilet seat around his neck. "…swear to Merlin, James Potter, you are in here far too often for your own good…" she trailed off, only then noticing whom Albus was conversing with.

"Well, Mr. Potter." Her face split into a warm grin, "I see you've met your namesakes."


End file.
